Goku and Bulma
by Bucky
Summary: (Complete)After losing his family to Piccolo, Goku suffers from a depression severe enough to alter the chemicals in his brain. Bulma tries to help - that is if he doesn't kill her first...(Continuation of Piccolo & ChiChi and Continued in Goten & Marron)
1. Default Chapter

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a sequel to PICCOLO AND CHI CHI, which, if you haven't read it, is more or less paraphrased in Bulma's introspective bit below. **

* * *

**TWO DAYS AFTER GOKU'S RETURN FROM THE AFTERLIFE**

Five-year old Trunks plastered his face to the window of Bulma's aerial machine, his face alit with a barely contained enthusiasm. "I see Goten!" He waved vigorously through the glass pane. "Mom! I see Goten. HI GOTEN!"

Bulma smiled as she saw the little raven-haired boy below do cartwheels at seeing her son. She carefully landed the tiltrotor helicopter in a clearing by Chi Chi's home, and unlatched the door. Trunks bolted, but she collared him back, her hand gripped tightly in the neck of his dress shirt. He looked up at her impatiently.

"Now Trunks, you can go play with Goten on ONE condition," she waited for him to settle enough to absorb her words. "NO getting your suit dirty, understand? This is a wedding, not a summer camp."

His blue eyes saucer-wide, Trunks nodded vigorously, radiating energy like a caged ferret. She released him just in time to be tackled down by Goten.

"HI TRUNKS!" the boy cried as he pinned him down with an ear-splitting grin on his face.

The roughhousing immediately developed into squeals and giggles, and she shook her head as the two bolted out of her copter like rockets from a launcher. Bulma sighed.

_At least he's smiling,_ she thought painstakingly, recalling the frown Trunks had been wearing all day after Vegeta had dismissed the boy from the training room - _again._ She could rally the prince's negativity all day long, but their son seemed to absorb it. And Vegeta, having all the sensitivity of an elephant in a crystal shop, just kept on dishing it out. She sighed and shook her head. _He's such an ass, sometimes… _

She took a deep breath and grabbed her clothes bag, stepping outside. A lot of people had already arrived, chatting amiably on the front patio of the gorgeous two-story home. She recognized the Ox King, Chi Chi's father. Of course he would be here. The man was crazy about Piccolo. After all, it was Piccolo that had transformed his little Chi Chi from an embittered Hera into an empowered Aphrodite.

He was speaking to Hercule - that puffed up nincompoop that had stolen Gohan's glory for defeating Cell. But he served his purpose, she figured. After all, he gave Piccolo an immense salary to care for the family, under the pretense of compensation for occasional mercenary work. A small smile curved her lips. _Mercenary work? Not likely,_ she thought snidely. _It's life insurance, so Piccolo won't kill your sniveling ass, Hercule._

The buffoon had brought his pretty little vixen of a daughter, Videl, which delighted Gohan, naturally. The two were talking separately under the awning out front. It was also good to see Gohan smile. She knew the boy had to be pained by what happened between Chi Chi and Goku.

_Goku… _The thought of his pain bit at her like an old wound. She had known him longer than any of them had, having endeared herself to his good-natured innocence from day one. She was his first friend, and the adventures they had gone on were the stuff of bedtime stories… She chuckled at the memory of the spiky-haired boy. _Never a dull moment…_

But her reverie was cut short by a more sobering recollection. The one of Eighteen over the telephone about the incessantly cheerful Goku reduced to tears and tatters, not eating, not sleeping… Bulma forced herself to quell the aggressive instinct to defend him. It's not like she could blame Chi Chi for severing the ties. _At least Krillin and Master Roshi are with him, _she thought conscientiously. _At least Chi Chi had the good sense to make sure they didn't come to the wedding so they could comfort him instead. _

Bulma made her way through the smattering of Chi Chi's co-workers into the house. Piccolo was nowhere to be seen, which didn't surprise her. The namek hated attention, especially when he was the center of it.

She made her way up the spiraling staircase and found Chi Chi dressed in her undergarments, tweaking her hair in the vanity room. The woman's eyes widened and then crinkled in a smile when she saw Bulma. "There you are."

Bulma went up and stood behind her, folding her arms across her chest as she stared at Chi Chi's reflection in the mirror. The morena's shiny, black hair was curled in large ringlets that bounced delightfully about her ivory neck and shoulders. It was pulled away from her heart-shaped face in front with several escaping wisps falling about her brow, and tickling her ears. Her large eyes, the color of shadow, gleamed with all the enthusiasm of a bride-to-be, her full, glossy lips parted in a perpetual smile.

_Piccolo changed you, all right,_ Bulma thought as she smiled and placed her hands on the woman's shoulders. Bulma had enjoyed the transformation in Chi Chi almost as much as anyone. She stopped by with Trunks at least twice a month, and the boys would stay home while they ladies would go out; shopping, dining, watching movies… They'd become closer friends than she would have ever imagined possible. And it was all due to Piccolo. _Hell,_ she thought wryly as she thought of the handsome namek who, against all odds, had rescued them from poverty, been a devoted, loving, father figure to her sons, and a full supporter of anything that made Chi Chi happy. _I'd marry him, too. _

"Well," Bulma finally said as she opened her hanger bag. "You're off to a good start. Let's see if this last minute dress does you justice." With that she pulled out a seashell-white, sleeveless dress, and helped it on the grinning woman. Chi Chi stood, and Bulma zipped up the back. Bulma looked appraisingly at the snug, and very flattering dress. Hmph, she thought bemusedly, admiring Chi Chi's figure with a pang of jealousy. _Who would have thought you packed the body of a buxom teenager underneath all those baggy clothes you used to wear… _"Not bad for a 24-hour notice," she said. "You look like a fairy-tale."

Chi Chi spun and giggled as it flared out and fell back around her calves. For a moment, Bulma was caught up in the oddity of it all. _Giggling. Chi Chi… Unbelievable. _

"It's beautiful, Bulma."

"No, YOU'RE beautiful. The dress is just adornment."

"I think Piccolo will like it."

Bulma snorted. "Please. I've seen him gape at you in your ugly old house robe. Of course he'll like it," she said good-naturedly, recalling then the phone call that had confirmed her suspicions all along. "I TOLD you he was attracted to you. Men can't fake googley eyes like that. Especially green men with such a limited range of expression."

Chi Chi smiled. Bulma was suddenly reminded of the woman's wedding day with Goku, but brushed aside the memory. Now wasn't the time for fond reminiscing of Chi Chi's resurrected husband.

"Mom!" Gohan cried, and Bulma could hear his footsteps up the stairwell. "Dende and Mr. Popo are here! They're ready to start!"

Chi Chi sucked in her breath and her eyes widened in last-minute jitters. She suddenly threw her arms around Bulma's neck. "Ack! I'm nervous! Can you believe it?"

Bulma laughed, and patted her on the back. "You'll be fine." Gohan peeked his head in, and gawked.

"Is Piccolo downstairs?" Chi Chi asked her grinning son.

Gohan nodded. "He's speaking with Dende."

"Well, then. Let's go."

* * *

. 

The ceremony was beautiful. Bulma sat between Goten and Trunks, holding each of their hands so that they'd behave. Dende had performed it in the namekian tongue, and even though she couldn't understand the words of Chi Chi's and Piccolo's vows, Bulma still felt her eyes sting at the tenderness of it.

Piccolo made a good counterpart to Chi Chi, in his low-waist, straight-legged pants, and white vest. Chi Chi had even talked him into wearing gold loop earrings. He reminded her of a genie, as portrayed in those old Sinbad movies. Sure, the clothes were weird, but not on him. His body was too unique and intricate to be totally covered up. It'd be like getting the best facial of your life only to wear a veil when you were done.

_A wedding… _

Something I've been planning since I was six years old, she thought somewhat sadly. With a seven-tier cake, crystal centerpieces, and ballroom dancing… She sighed heavily. Yamcha had been distracted at best, and then there was Vegeta…

_Ugh. Vegeta…_ Her attraction to the raging, power-hungry Saiyan was more opportunistic than it was genuine. Marriage was a topic they didn't even discuss. It's not like she could sit down and write a list of all the good qualities he had. Aside from saving the world there just weren't many. She'd been drawn to him, and it was that simple. And now there was Trunks… The poor boy worshipped a father who was incapable of expressing love, and it pained her more than a little.

Even though her romantic life seemed stuck in a downhill rut, she'd still find herself fantasizing about meeting Mr. Perfect; a man who could love her son as much as she did…

_And then I could have my wedding, she thought wistfully. With all the bells and whistles_

Her thoughts were distracted when the vows ended and Piccolo locked Chi Chi in his stare. Suddenly the whole hoopla of the event seemed to stop bothering him. Bulma thought she had never seen so much emotion in the namek's eyes.

_Un-uh,_ she realized, as her vision blurred. _To hell with the glamorous wedding. All I want is someone who'll look at me like THAT. _

The groom said nothing, but his thoughts were evident in his face; _You're my life, more precious to me than breath. I love you._

Then he softly ran his fingers across the bride's glistening cheek, lifted her face and kissed her.

The water in Bulma's eyes spilled over.

She had never felt so hopelessly alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_ **

"Thank you so much, Bulma," Chi Chi said as she leaned over and gave Bulma a one-armed hug, her other one being weighted down with luggage. "We'll be back in a couple days."

Bulma forced the smile into place, still melancholy from word of Goku's suffering and her own inherent solitude. "We'll be fine," she reassured. "Trunks is ecstatic to spend the extra time with Goten." _And I don't mind being out from under the suffocating oppression of 'His Highness', personally,_ she silently added.

"Well, I'm staying for a while," the Ox King said as he bent down and kissed his daughter on the cheek and wrapped her in a huge hug. Just then, Piccolo walked up with Goten perched on his shoulder like a bird, Gohan and Trunks in tow. The little boy hopped down into Chi Chi's arms.

"Bye mom!" His tiny arms wrapped around her neck. Gohan was quick to bestow the same affections to their mother.

"Have a great time on your honeymoon," the teenager said in an almost forced cheerfulness that Bulma prayed no one else had caught.

Suddenly, the Ox King surprised them all and threw his humungous arms around Piccolo in a gut-squeezing bear hug, lifting the namek three feet in the air. Bulma had to stifle a laugh as Piccolo instantly turned rigor mortis at the unwelcome embrace; wide, stunned eyes, gaping mouth, rigid frame…

"Thank you for making my daughter smile, Piccolo!" the Ox King blurted out, a hint of undignified emotion in his voice as he buried his huge face in Piccolo's shoulder. "A father couldn't ask for a better son-in-law!"

_It's taking everything he has not to clobber the old man and break free, _Bulma thought in a barely contained amusement. Suddenly a flash blinded their eyes. Chi Chi gasped. Bulma blinked.

Gohan laughed outright, the offending camera in his hands.

"You _didn't…_" Chi Chi began, when Piccolo gasped through his clenched teeth, his face contorting in fury. He tried to wriggle free.

"GO-" _wriggle wriggle_. "GOOOO - HAN!"

"Run, boy," Bulma prodded. "Run!"

Gohan immediately powered up and flew several feet in the air, an ear-splitting grin on his face.

"Sorry Piccolo! I couldn't resist!" He called down merrily, and this time, Bulma noticed his cheer wasn't forced. She smiled. _Whatever takes his mind off of his father…_

Chi Chi coaxed the Ox King into releasing the namek, but only with her firm grip on her new husband's forearm. "Forget about it, Piccolo. Let's go."

He pursed his lips and looked back and forth between the hovering teenager and the woman on his arm, until the latter won out and the tension in his face dissipated. He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. "You know there's no way you could possibly restrain me if I really wanted to wipe that smile off of Gohan's face, right?"

In answer, she grinned and leaned against him, sliding her hand up his chest. Bulma noticed the maroon flush that instantly sprang to Piccolo's cheeks.

"Oh just go already, you two!" Bulma cried out.

A bare hint of a smile tweaked the namek's eyes, and he took Chi Chi's suitcase in one hand and bracketed her against him with the other. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and with a last-minute wave, they launched into the air.

Bulma watched until they disappeared over the trees, and then caught Gohan's eye. "I want a copy of that picture as soon as it's developed."

He landed next to her, still immensely pleased with the cunning shot. "I'll go into town right now," he said. "Don't want to take any chances of him coming back and breaking the camera."

Something in the way the boy said it gave Bulma the impression that it wouldn't have been the first time.

* * *

. 

That afternoon, Bulma found herself out on the back porch in an effort to escape the disgusting inhalation sounds of three half-saiyans and an Ox King as they heartily consumed sixteen pizzas.

Her phone rang. She twisted and unlatched the cell from her belt, holding it up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Bulma?"

It took her a second to recognize the heavy, strained voice as Krillin's. She peeked behind her to make sure the boys were all still inside, and cupped her hand over the mouthpiece, whispering as she spoke.

"Krillin? What's wrong?" she asked. "Is Goku okay?"

Krillin unloaded, with more than a little emotion in his voice. "He's…he's not taking any of this well at all," he said wearily. "He's been a wreck. Cries at night, barely eats, stares off into space most the day like he can't hear me," then his voice got real quiet. "_Just now he was talking about going back to the next dimension…_"

Her breath caught in her throat. _Suicide?_

"I…" his voice broke, and Bulma knew that the short bald man who loved the Saiyan more than a brother had lost his composure. _"I don't know how to help him!" _he hissed, apparently not trusting his vocal cords to make it through the last bit.

Bulma swallowed the lump in her throat, and blinked away the sting in her eyes. "I'm coming. Just stay with him, Krillin. I'll leave right now."

"Bulma?"

"Yeah…"

"Don't let Gohan-"

"I won't," she reassured. Goku wasn't the only one who didn't want his son to see him like this. It would kill the boy. "I'll be there shortly."

"Okay."

She hung up and dropped her head between her knees, hands clasped behind her neck. She needed to take a few seconds to collect herself and come up with an alibi for her abrupt departure before she faced Gohan.

But unfortunately, she didn't have the chance.

"Bulma?" came the teenager's voice behind her. She jumped.

"Gohan? Oh, hi. I, uh…"

"Have they found dad yet?" he asked, his eyes heavy, and brows drawn tight in worry. His expression was nearly enough to yank her right out of her lie.

"N-no, Gohan." She stood up shakily and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "He'll turn up, kid. Don't worry."

Gohan bit his bottom lip and Bulma noticed the moisture in his eyes before he quickly blinked it away.

_Gohan, forgive me! _"I…I need to go and take care of some things at home," she lied through her teeth. "Do you think you and your grandpa can handle the little squirts?"

He was looking at her intensely, as if he'd caught on. She did her best to smile, and he finally sighed and looked at his feet. "Yeah."

Bulma grabbed her purse from the porch table. "You have my number if you need me, okay Gohan?"

He nodded.

After a quick squeeze of his hand, she turned and rigidly walked to her tiltrotor, as it took every bit of restraint she had to keep from running.

* * *

. 

Goku weakly wiped his forearm across his mouth. He'd just managed to consume a bowl of rice, and already felt a tad more energy from the effort. Now if he could just keep it down…

_Don't think about Chi Chi, _he coaxed himself. _Don't think about her… _He felt Krillin's hand on his back.

"How about going for a swim, eh buddy?" Krillin asked. It was a bad attempt at sounding cheerful, and Goku imagined he would have appreciated the effort had he been able to bring himself to care. He thought about the cold temperature of the water, and the hassle of being wet.

"I don't know…"

"It'll be a good distraction," Krllin responded unconvincingly. "Wait here, and I'll go get the suits."

Goku reluctantly looked out at the rolling waves that lapped at the sand of Roshi's island. Suddenly a flashback washed over him like a brainwash.

* * *

_"Goku?" Chi Chi screamed as she came running out, nearly tripping over her skirt. "GOKU!" She flung her arms around his neck, and wept tears of joy against his chest. "You're okay…" _

He had finally licked that virus, and her earnest smile and relief at his well being sent a familiar warmth that started in his chest and worked its way clear down to his toes. It was just another moment when he realized how much he loved his wife.

Embracing her back, he spun her up in the air and caught her in his arms, laughing heartily. Then he locked her in his stare, and sighed. If only he didn't have to go off and fight that Cell…

* * *

The memory faded away, but not without leaving behind a great surge of emotion in its wake. Goku winced at the pain of it. He loved her. In all the chaos, she'd been his one constant, never changing, always there… Then, without warning, another recollection redirected his attention with soul-piercing detail.

* * *

_It felt good to hold her after all this time. His Chi Chi. And somehow she had gone from just pretty to drop-dead-gorgeous in the years he was away, which made him completely oblivious to her unease - until her eyes widened dramatically. _

"What's wrong?" he asked her, still stunned stupid by how attractive she was.

"You," she said, looking at him bewildered. "You don't belong here."

"What?"

"Piccolo does."

Several confusing seconds passed as he scrutinized her shadowed face for enlightenment. It didn't come, but he sensed enough in her stance and expression to suddenly be filled with dread.

"What…what do you mean?"

"You abandoned us, Goku," she said solemnly.

The words hit him like a ki blast, and the sudden intake of breath chilled his teeth.

No. _It wasn't the words. It was the look in her face when she said them; without the scorn or anger of the woman he once knew. It was an unfamiliar expression of diluted bitterness, as though he were nothing more than a glitch in her past. _

_"Chi Chi, I didn't want to…leave," he replied, not noticing or caring that his response sounded more like a plea than a protest. _

_She quirked a brow at him. "Oh no?" _

_"I left to save the-" _

_"to save the earth," she finished for him and smiled sadly. "Of course you did. That sounds much better than taking a leave of absence from life to pursue the adventures in the afterlife." _

_Goku could only gawk at her, unsure how to respond. He had meant well - he had! "It…it seemed like the right thing to do," he stammered helplessly, feeling the last bit of excitement for coming home transform to panic. _

_"You know," she said, "you didn't even bother to say goodbye." _

_He winced. It was true. He'd been afraid to tell her, so he left it up to Gohan. In hindsight, he realized now how cowardly that had been. "I'm sorry, Chi Chi. I didn't mean-" _

_"You abandoned us," she said again, with a finality that twisted Goku's gut. It became horribly clear that she was more than serious, and that this was something he couldn't smile his way out of like he always had. He could still hear Goten crying in the background at Piccolo's departure, and Gohan's soothing voice trying to quiet the little guy. A small part of him was grateful that neither of them were listening to this conversation. Perhaps he could somehow make it right before they caught on to what was happening. _

_"I came back for you," he whispered intensely, and for the first time since he was a child, Goku felt his eyes sting with tears. In a desperate, heartfelt gesture, he dropped to his knees and threw his arms around Chi Chi's waist, burying his face in her suit jacket. "I came back to stay," he pled. "I missed you…!" _

_He felt her hesitant hand in his hair, and her voice was strained. "It's too late, Goku. Don't make this harder than it already is." _

_"I'll make it up to you," he rambled on. "I'll get a job, Chi Chi. I'll do all the dishes. I'll…I'll even stop fighting. Just don't push me away!" he hissed and looked up to her face. _

_She painstakingly shook her head. "Look behind me, Goku." _

_He forced himself to break away from her face long enough to take in the beautiful two-story house. _

_"Look at that little four-year old boy over there who is crying because he thinks the only father he ever knew has been replaced by a stranger," her voice choked, and her eyes watered. _

_Goku looked at the little replica of himself as the child rubbed away his tears with grubby little fists. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he recalled how anxious he had been to hold his second son, and play with him. His eyes lifted to the stripling boy who had nearly grown to a man in the time that he'd been away. A boy who once had all the faith in the world in his father-a boy he had missed more than anyone. _

_To lose his wife was to lose his sons, and the thought ripped holes in his soul. He gripped at her. "Chi Chi, don't do this…" _

_"I owe the joy in my life to someone else," she said in a forced firmness. "And he not only deserves my devotion," she narrowed her stare, and the next words came out in a whisper. "He has it." _

_Then it hit him. "Piccolo…?" _

_She pursed her lips and nodded once. He let go of her and rocked back on his heels. She started to walk away, leaving him with an acute, unprecedented sensation that his entire world had been shattered. He reached a frenzied hand out to her. "Where are you going?" The words came out in a strangled cry. _

_She turned and faced him once more. "To go get the man who has been the provider of my family and the father to my children," she said sullenly. "And bring him back home." _

_This couldn't be happening! "CHI CHI!" She looked over her shoulder at him then with more pity in her face than compassion. _

_"I don't love you anymore, Goku," she said quietly. "I'm sorry." _

* * *

He was ruthlessly yanked out of reliving that cataclysmic moment by a familiar queasiness. It was the same nausea that had plagued his body since Chi Chi had dismissed him from her life. Goku stumbled to his knees, and clutched at his stomach. No, he thought miserably. Not again! 

He retched his guts out in the sand, feeling the warm, salty tears slide down his cheeks. It was a horrible sensation, only made worse by the fact that he was forced to watch how much his hands trembled in the process. He had no strength left to fight the despair. If he could only talk Krillin into sending him back…

Suddenly, he felt the soothing sensation of nails combing through his scalp. He involuntarily shuddered as the delicate fingers worked through his hair and then eased their way down his neck and lightly ran back and forth across his shoulder blades. In the corner of his eye he saw a pair of feminine legs kneeling in the sand next to him. He reluctantly lifted his head to look into a worried face he knew all too well. It belonged to the second person he had met on this planet, and her visage was no less pretty than it had been all those years ago…

He released a quivering breath.

"Bulma…"


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_ **

_"Bulma…"_

"Hey…" Bulma tried to keep the tremor out of her voice as she tilted her head to see him better. The mighty Saiyan's appearance was sunken and sallow, black circles burying eyes that had no fight in them. No fight at all. And his once-sturdy frame seemed half the size, and as rickety as an old bridge. As she looked at him now, Bulma thought she could see where the lines on his face would be when he was eighty._ Oh, Goku…_

It took every bit of restraint she had to keep from collapsing on him in sobs. He didn't need a bleeding heart. Krillin had gone that route and it hadn't worked. Taking a deep breath, Bulma put on a tougher hat. "Now what's all this depression nonsense?" she said, trying her best to sound gruff.

"I haven't…been myself lately," he choked out, and then doubled over again in a coughing fit. Each of his spasms just did that much more to weaken her resolve.

"No, you haven't," she sighed heavily, forcing good nature into her tone. "Though that's not going to stop me from whipping your ass back into shape."

He looked at her, and she thought a faint smile creased his eyes. "Krillin will be glad," he said weakly. "I don't think he can handle much more."

"Well," she puffed, "He's a little more empathetic than I am. Personally, I'm not about to let the strongest man in the universe waste away due to an every-day tragedy. Understand?"

He snorted, and then buried his head in his arms. Several seconds passed as his pitiful attempt at banter eroded under the weight of his misery. Bulma watched his hands clench in white-knuckled fists as a frustrated growl resounded in his chest. He spoke out without looking up.

"I've trained my body almost every day of my life. And I've won every battle," he began, his shaky words muffled in the sand. "But I never thought to prepare my heart…for something like _this!_" his voice cracked, and he faced her with anguished eyes. _"I can't fight this!"_

Her maternal instincts jumped into overdrive, and she found herself leaning over him, wrapping her supportive arms around his angst-ridden frame. "YES. YOU. CAN, Goku," she insisted. "You're a fool to say otherwise."

He rambled on as though he were already inoculated against her words - as though Krillen had already used them a thousand times. "The worst part is that I can't blame this on some foul evil, or elusive brainwash," he stammered, bowing his head again. "It's _my_ fault. I should have stayed. And now my family belongs to Piccolo…"

_What a horrible thing for him to come back to,_ she thought, but dwelling on it was killing him. Not to mention the effect it had on those people who loved him. She heard rasping breaths coming from his buried head, and realized he was crying.

Her breath caught in her throat as a memory of the last and only time she saw him in tears flitted across her mind. He'd been a boy, and his dead grandfather was pulled from the afterlife to fight him in one of Baba's psychotic games. The reunion of the two reduced the emotionally impermeable child to great hiccupping sobs. Bulma remembered it like it was yesterday. She had been there. She had always been there.

"Listen to me, Goku," she said through her teeth as she grabbed his chin with her hand and yanked it up until their eyes met. "I've gotten you out of ruts before, and I'm sticking with you until you lick this, got it? And you WILL survive it," she said forcefully. "Suicide is a coward's way out."

His eyes widened slightly as if she'd just pulled his darkest secret from his mind. She shook his face.

"Got it?"

His visage was still unbearably sad, and after several strained seconds of unbending will on both their parts Bulma finally stood to her feet. "I mean it, Goku. We'll see eye to eye when this is all done." With that she did her best to storm off, meeting Krillin on the inside of Roshi's doorway. His face was drawn tight with worry.

She released the tension in a great shuddering breath, and shook her head. "He's broken," she said. "That dolt has taken more hits in the head than there are sands in the ocean; yet one emotional crisis pops him like a balloon," she huffed. "Well, he's not going to bring me down-"

She stopped abruptly as Krillin reached a hand up to her face and pulled it away, showing her the tears hanging off his fingertip. She gasped. He flung the betraying drops to the floor. "Don't you start lying to yourself, too, Bulma."

She brought a hand to her mouth and squinted away the rest of the moisture in her eyes. He was right. _You can't help him like this, Bulma,_ she told herself. _Practical. Think practical…_ She suddenly recalled a handful of Capsule Corp's employees who had been pushed too hard, and how they had ended up. It wasn't too difficult to draw the parallels.

"He's on a path to self-destruction, Krillin," she whispered, feeling her bottom lip quiver. She angrily bit it until the gamy taste of blood wet her tongue. "I need you to go collect the dragonballs with Eighteen and take them to the Lookout."

His pained face shifted to confusion. "You think the dragon would be able to lift him out of the depression?"

She shook her head. "No. But he's unstable," she answered. "And anyone as powerful as Goku is can't risk instability. They're too dangerous. I just want to be prepared." She could almost see the mental checklist in Krillin's head of all the monsters they'd fought that were maddened by their power.

"You think he might-"

"I don't know," she said, cutting him off. "But if he digresses any further then something may snap. I just want to be prepared."

He slowly nodded, and pursed his lips in agreement.

"Go on," she coaxed. "I won't leave his side. Besides, Master Roshi is here. The dragonball radar is in my copter."

As Krillin flew upstairs to relate all this to his wife, Bulma peeked outside to find the spiky-haired Saiyan in the same spot she had left him, and in the same state. She dug her nails in the flesh of her palm until the pain made her stop.

_You'll make it through this, Goku. I swear it!_


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4 _**

**ONE WEEK LATER**

"Thanks for watching Trunks, Chi Chi," Bulma whispered into the phone on the front porch of Roshi's home. The sun had already set over the waterline, and the humid, evening air caressed her face like a warm hand. "I don't know when I'll be able to-"

"Don't worry about it. He and Goten are having a great time. Besides," her voice grew solemn. "There is nowhere else I'd rather you be than with him, Bulma."

"Hmm."

"I'm so sorry."

"So am I, but he brought it upon himself Chi Chi," Bulma reassured, hoping her voice didn't sound half as exhausted as she felt. "He left you a widow, not an estranged wife. Til death do you part, remember?"

The woman on the other end sighed heavily. A couple seconds passed, and Bulma heard a soft sniffing, and a sharp intake of breath.

"Chi Chi?"

"Oh, Bulma," she whispered suddenly, "Piccolo is starting to think he should have just left. And Gohan's going crazy," she said. "He takes off every morning and spends the entire day searching for Goku. And when he comes home at night, he's twice as upset," she seemed to bite back a sob. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this from him!"

Bulma threw up her emotional barriers. Goku's incessant misery was already swallowing her in a vortex of despair, and she didn't have much heart left to spare. And come to think of it, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to bring Gohan over. Maybe HE could stop his father's downward tumble. It was worth a shot. "Tomorrow, Chi Chi."

"What?"

"Tell Gohan first thing in the morning, and send him over. Maybe he can help."

"Are…are you sure that's wise?"

"Trust me," Bulma said, forcing the quiver out of her voice. "I don't know that it can get much worse, and I'm all but out of ideas."

Chi Chi went silent for a few seconds. "It's that bad, huh?"

"Yeah," Bulma conceded quietly.

"Heavens…"

"I'll talk to you later."

"Right."

Bulma hung up and rested her head against her knees. She'd spent the last week dragging Goku around the world, trying to re-live the happy adventures before Chi Chi came into his life. They'd been to his grandfather's home where they first met, the small town where Oolong was trying to build a harem, the desert where Yamcha first tried to rob them…

They were moments filled with more than a little humor, and fond recollection. Yet for all the memories they shared together, Goku's face would only light up for a moment at each location, and then sink again when the novelty wore off. The conversations had gone on like this:

_"Remember this place? Where that crazy rabbit turned me into a carrot?" _

"Hmm? Oh yeah…" He'd grant her a forced smile that never made its way up to his eyes.

"And remember how Oolong stopped Pilaf from making his wish by ordering a pair of underwear? That he wore on his head for months afterwards?"

Pause. Nod.

"We had fun, didn't we?"

Nod.

She'd tried everything she could think of, and somehow…_somehow_ maintained her composure for him, when all she really wanted to do was throw her arms around his neck and beg him to not give up. Nothing was working. He was only getting worse, a shell of the man he used to be. They were losing him, and it was ripping her heart in twain.

Her cell phone rang, and she wiped the back of her hand over her eyes and took a moment to compose herself before answering. Then she hit the button and held it up to her face. "Yeah?"

"It's Krillin."

"…hi…"

"Listen. We just dropped off the last of the dragonballs with Dende, so they're there if we need them. Eighteen and I are heading home right now. We should be there in a couple hours."

"…okay…"

"Is he…?"

"He's still…alive," she managed.

"Well we're bringing back some senzu beans. Maybe they can sustain his body until his mind heals."

"…yeah…"

"How are you holding up?"

She thought Krillin sounded incredibly chipper, but then he'd been gone for the past week searching for the dragonballs. Only she and Master Roshi had felt the full brunt of Goku's woes.

"I'm still alive, too," she responded ruefully.

"Hang in there Bulma. He's bound to pull out of this soon."

"yeah…"

"How's Vegeta handling the fact that you're spending every waking minute with his biggest rival?"

She snorted. "As long as his gravity room is working, the man could care less where I am or who I'm with." Then she recalled a conversation with her father earlier in the day. "But considering that it broke this morning, I imagine he'll be showing up any time now, demanding that I return and fix it."

"Yeah. That sounds like him, all right. Well, see ya in a bit."

"Bye."

Bulma hung up and sighed. So the dragonballs were collected… Not that she had any idea how they would use them if Goku completely lost it, but at least they were there. If Bulma had learned anything from all the trouble they'd been in, it was that being proactive paid off.

She slowly stood and went inside. Master Roshi was sitting at the table, his dirty magazine closed and off to the side. It almost made her sad. So dispirited was he about Goku that Roshi didn't even have the heart to peruse his porn.

"Is he upstairs?" she asked quietly.

Roshi nodded wordlessly, his eyes buried in shadow. Underneath his long white moustache a frown wrinkled his chin. The cloud that hung over Goku seemed to hang over them all. Bulma would blame him, but it wasn't _his_ fault that they loved him so much. He never asked for their friendship - he just had it.

As she walked behind Master Roshi, she gently squeezed his shoulder, and he clasped his thick-fingered hand over hers.

"Krillin and Eighteen are bringing back senzu beans," she said. "It's not a solution, but a quick fix until then."

He nodded solemnly. She left her hand there for several seconds, sharing in the comforted silence of their weird relationship. Finally, Roshi pulled his hand back down.

"He had no defense against this," he muttered quietly.

"I know."

"None at all."

"I know."

"Had Frieza or Cell known of this weakness, they would have spent their time seducing his wife instead of trying to fight him."

His voice was broken and without hope. _Do I sound the same way? _Bulma wondered. _How much more emotional stamina do we really have? _With one last, heartfelt grip on the old man's shoulder, she trailed upstairs and quietly opened the door to Goku's room.

He was curled in a fetal position on the bed, and though the night was warm, he was shivering. She tip toed over to his bed and painstakingly pulled a cover over his body. The movement startled him and he jerked upright. She placed her hands on his chest and tried to calm him.

"Shhh. It's just me…"

He squinted at her, his face haggard and strained. "B-Bulma?"

"I was covering you."

"Oh…" He laid back down, his back to her. "I th-th-thought…that you were Ch…Chi Chi."

Bulma found she was glad he wasn't facing her in that moment, because tears immediately sprang to her eyes before she could blink them back. She swallowed several times before trusting herself to speak.

"Krillin is bringing back some senzu beans for you, Goku."

He said nothing, but she knew he wasn't sleeping. His back was convulsing with light spasms, and she figured it was his body battling to hold on against all the days with almost no food or sleep.

_Oh, Goku!_ She silently cried. _If I could take this from you, I would! _As if in an effort to transfer her willpower to him, Bulma found herself lightly running her fingers in zigzags up and down his spine. He made a small noise of appreciation and inched a little closer. She breathed a sigh of relief. _Finally. Something I'm doing is making him feel better. _

So she put both hands to work, massaging his scalp and caressing his back. After several minutes, his jitters quieted. In some strange way it comforted her, as if touching him reinforced that he was still alive, and that there was yet hope.

_I'll do this all night, every night, if it helps you to pull out of this, my friend. _Her fingers kept getting caught in his unruly hair. She smiled inwardly. _That hair… No less compliant now than it was when he was a little squirt. _She recalled the first time she gave him a bath, trying to untangle the mess on his head. The concept of bathing had been completely new to him, something that had horrified her.

_Well, if hygiene is the only thing you learned from me, Goku, then I think did my part. _The past week had reminded her how much they had been through together, and in an unexpected way, how much he meant to her. The spiky-haired boy grinned hugely in her mind's eye. _Hmph…goofy little terd…_

_…who grew to be an amazing man…_ Her fingers delineated the muscles on his back, which despite his body's recent neglect, were still defined more than most bodybuilders. _You'd put your life on the line for a chipmunk, you silly oaf. This world is better off with you in it, even without the super hero status…_

The sound of heavy, regulated breathing pulled her out of her reverie. Goku was asleep. She would have leapt for joy, had she been able to do so quietly. Easing back, she tip toed out of the room, and closed the door.

Bulma walked down the hallway, into her own designated room and laid back on her bed with her hands clasped behind her head. She hoped that perhaps she'd be able to sleep better this night, knowing that he finally was.

* * *

.

Bulma awoke later that night with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. _Huh? _She tried to quiet her heart, which for some reason had thumped its way up into her throat. _A nightmare? _She shook her head. _No. Something else. _

She'd had her fair share of dealing with villains, and after all this time she knew a negative energy when she sensed one, and right now her intuition told her that they were in danger.

_Goku…!_ Bulma leapt out of bed in her nightshirt, and stumbled towards the Saiyan's room. _How do you make so many enemies, boy?_ She thought crazily. _Whoever has come to destroy you this time picked a perfect moment. _She tore into his room and gasped. He was gone. Without thinking to wake Master Roshi, she flew down the stairs desperate to find him.

Then she saw the kitchen.

The refrigerator door was all the way open, and there were wrappers and empty containers strewn all about the floor. The cupboards were also left open, and it looked as though a small tornado had blasted through the place, stripping it of all the food. _What the…?_

Her panic spurred her onward, even though she had no idea how she was going to protect him from whoever was out there. She bolted through the front door, combed the beach with her eyes, and froze…

Standing at the water's edge, with the waves lapping gently at his feet stood Goku. His stance was unwavering and strong, arms folded heavily across his chest. A hazy red aura encircled him in an almost foreboding manner, and Bulma found herself fighting the urge to run back in and lock the door behind her.

Confusion gave way to concern for his well-being, however, and she marched over to him in the sand, stopping just feet from where he stood. His back was to her, and though she'd made plenty of noise, he did not turn around. The hair on her arms raised.

"Goku. There's something out there," she panted, "and considering you're a magnate for trouble, it's probably after you." Several uncomfortable seconds passed in silence, and again she fought the urge to run away. "Goku…?"

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "I was wondering," he began in a dark, ominous tone that reminded her of Vegeta in his early days, "…why it is that I never decimated this planet."

She took a step back as he turned around and faced her. She gasped and fell in the sand, scooting away from him. "What's happening to you?" she hissed, feeling fear tickle up and down her spine.

He sneered down at her, wholly regenerated, and the grin that curled his mouth was one she'd seen before…on Cell, on Frieza, on a myriad of other villains thirsting for mayhem. The gentle demeanor that she'd always associated with his face was replaced by murderous, red pinpricks in his eyes.

Cold air sucked in through her teeth as she met his gaze. _Unfamiliar, stranger, evil… _

Shit!

"Goku, fight it!"

The words could have been feather darts for all they affected him, and she felt her guts twist in knots as his malignant gaze fixed on her body, and narrowed in a raw desire.

"I'm also wondering," he said, shifting his focus from her legs to her chest, then back to her legs, "how it is that I never took advantage of our 'friendship'."

She would have had a hundred angry retorts for an enemy. But a friend? The intent behind his words stole her courage, and before she could put any more distance between them, Goku had grabbed her by the biceps, and lifted her up until their faces were inches apart. He laughed malevolently, and sniffed at her hair.

"Goku! Fight this! It isn't you!" she cried, feeling tears sting her eyes as his breath raked across her neck.

"On the contrary," he purred as he forcefully hugged her body against his. "This is EXACTLY who I am." His grip was like a vice, and for all her struggles she couldn't even budge.

Suddenly, his arms slackened, and he dropped her in the sand. A split second later, she knew why.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

_Vegeta!_ Her breath caught in her throat as the prince set foot down beside them. She scrambled away from the once-hero and threw her arms around the neck of the once-villain. Vegeta possessively circled an arm around her waist without taking his hateful gaze off of Goku.

"Nothing," Goku grinned maliciously. "But if you'd shown up a minute later…" Goku let the sentence hang, and Bulma could tell by the look on Vegeta's face that he didn't appreciate the visual anymore than she did.

"Something's happened to him, Vegeta," she whispered fiercely. "He's snapped."

She watched nervously as the prince's scowl seemed to freeze as his eyes took in Goku's appearance. Then, as understanding undoubtedly dawned on him, her man's brows drew further together in the center, and a thin-lipped grin lifted the corners of his mouth. It was a face she recognized. Vegeta's battle lust was taking over, and this was one fight he'd been looking forward to for years.

"I know those eyes," Vegeta said, flashing his teeth as he spoke. "They're the eyes of a Saiyan."

Bulma heard Goku's smug snort, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Not like this…

"Well then, Kakkarot," Vegeta continued as he pushed Bulma aside and eagerly crouched down into a fighter's stance. "It looks like that glitch in your brain has finally been fixed."


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5_ **

Bulma reluctantly backed away from the two Saiyans, knowing from all her experience that nothing she did could coerce them out of this battle. The two men faced each other like cocked battering rams, their eyes gleaming feverishly. Mouths and hands twitched with a barely contained excitement, and for the first time in her life, Bulma truly comprehended how inherently blood-thirsty the Saiyan race was.

_The dragonballs,_she thought desperately. _We have to get to the lookout…_ She turned to jet back to the house when she ran smack dab into Master Roshi. His eyes were wide and staring.

"Master Roshi," she began frantically. "It's Goku. He's-"

"I sensed it," he said, all trace of humor completely gone from his voice. He iron-gripped her arm and turned abruptly, tugging her behind him. "We're not safe here."

"What about Krillin and Eighteen?" she asked.

As if in answer, she saw the two land down on the beach before her, staring in bewilderment at Goku and Vegeta. Roshi flung Bulma at Eighteen.

"We need to get out of here, kids," he said as he walked up to Krillin and turned so Krillin could grip his turtle shell. "Immediately. I doubt they'll be caring much about casualties once they get started."

"What's happening?" Krillin asked.

"We'll explain on the way!" Bulma yelled, clinging to Eighteen's neck. Eighteen, though confused, scooped her up with ease and lifted into the air. Krillin hooked his hands around Roshi's turtle shell and ascended as well. But they hovered, still irresistibly drawn to the face off below.

"Move it!" Roshi barked. Bulma felt the cold air sting her face and bare legs as her carrier powered up and sliced through the air at a skin-peeling speed.

"What's going on?" Krillin asked, and Bulma could see the worry in his face for Goku. Only he wasn't Goku any longer. She quickly searched for the wording that would be adequate for their dear friend's transformation.

"Goku's mal-aligned brain was popped back into place by his emotional suffering," she said.

"Huh?"

"Don't you remember Goku telling you about that head wound he got when he was a baby? How he went from violent and vicious to good-natured?"

Krillen frowned speculation at her. "Yeah…"

"Well, all this psychological trauma apparently fixed his brain, returning him to his Saiyan nature."

Eighteen looked down at her. "I thought the Saiyan temperament was due to their conditioning."

Bulma shook her head. "I've watched Vegeta struggle with his inner-demons for years," she said. "It's like trying to tame a wild predator. It can be done, but it's near impossible…" As the words came out of her mouth, Bulma's eyes watered suddenly as she finally comprehended to some extent how far Vegeta had come in battling his baser nature. She looked over her shoulder at the disappearing island behind them, and dread filled her.

_Oh, Vegeta!_ She silently cried. _Run, you arrogant fool! He won't spare your life this time! _

"So you're saying that Goku is all of a sudden evil?" Krillin asked, as if unwilling to accept what she had so clearly laid out. She met his gaze, and pursed her lips. He apparently found what he was looking for, because she saw the brief flash of sadness cross his expression. Then it snapped right back into determination, and he sped up. _Like a true Z fighter,_ she thought. _Fight anguish with action. _

Suddenly, the idea occurred to her just where Goku might go once he was through with Vegeta. "Krillin!" she reached her hand out to him. "Give me your phone."

He pulled it out of his shirt, and Eighteen positioned them closer so he could hand it to her. She grabbed it and looked at the number pad. Her fingers instantly went to dial Chi Chi's phone number, and stopped.

The woman would flip, and this was news that needed to fall on listening ears; someone levelheaded that wouldn't be blinded by emotions or denial. Grateful for her photographic memory, she dialed a different number instead. Piccolo's gruff voice answered.

"What do you want this time, Hercule!"

"Piccolo!" she said, surprised to hear her voice crack with emotion. "It's Bulma."

He was silent on the other end, but she knew he was listening.

"Listen to me. Goku has snapped…reverted back to his Saiyan self," she said. "He's fighting Vegeta right now, but," she had to swallow the lump in her throat as a horrible visual of Vegeta's defeat played out in her mind. "…but when he's done, he might come after you and Chi Chi."

There was a couple seconds of silence, and she waited patiently as the news sunk in. Finally Piccolo broke it, his voice low and serious.

"How bad…?"

She stifled a frenzying sob, the horror of what almost happened settling in now that the shock had faded. _"He tried to rape me!"_ she hissed, and then cupped her hand to her mouth. Eighteen almost dropped her, and she could see Krillin swing his head in open appall at her last words.

Bulma continued. "I wouldn't put it past him to go after Gohan or Goten as well. The dragonballs are at the lookout and we're headed there right now to see if Shenlong can do something-"

A brittle crunch halted her words. She had wondered how long the phone would last in his undoubtedly tightening grip. Bulma exhaled deeply and turned the cell off. She hung her head in an effort to compose herself.

No one spoke for several seconds. Bulma imagined they were coping with the magnitude of Goku's transformation, after hearing about the sexual offense.

"What…" Master Roshi cleared his throat. "What are we going to wish for?"

Without taking her gaze off the passing earth below, Bulma muttered, "Something tangible. The dragon has no power over the human psyche."

A huge wave of crackling, electric air washed over them, and Bulma felt Eighteen's grip on her torso tighten. The night sky behind them lit up like day, and a deep bass whoom vibrated their eardrums.

"Well," said Eighteen dryly. "Looks like they're done exchanging pleasantries."

* * *

. 

Piccolo let the splintered cell phone in his hand fall to the tile in metallic, needling pings. His breath whistled through his gritted teeth in irregular pants, a growl barely restrained in his throat. He was trembling. Never before had he felt such a heady mix of rage and fear. Rage at the thought of what the deranged Goku would do to his family, and fear that he wouldn't be able to stop him.

Gohan was at his side in moments. "What is it," he asked in a low, serious tone, no doubt recognizing the look on Piccolo's face.

Piccolo slowly turned and met his eyes. There was no way around it. Gohan had to know. "It's your father."

Gohan's brows lifted, his face a cocktail of relief and concern. "Is he okay? Has someone-"

"Gohan," Piccolo cut him off and faced the teenage boy, grabbing his shoulders. "Goku has…" The rest of the words got stuck in his throat.

"What is it?" Gohan asked, his alarm turning to panic.

"You have to protect your mother and Goten," he said firmly. "Your father has lost his sanity. He's become evil, Gohan."

"What?"

Piccolo didn't miss the moisture that gathered in the youth's eyes. Piccolo had no other way of phrasing it, so he locked stares with the lad, and frowned understanding at him until Gohan's face finally shifted from confused denial to horrified acceptance.

"When he's done fighting Vegeta, he'll probably come here. I want you to take your mother and brother far away-"

"I won't let him kill you!" Gohan cried suddenly, alarming Chi Chi in the next room. She came in, and stopped when she saw the looks on their faces.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Piccolo shook Gohan hard. "The only thing you can do for me is to protect them," he said. "Trust me. Please. We can't leave them undefended. Especially taking into consideration Goku's ability to instantly transmit himself."

"He'd…go after…mom?" he asked.

Piccolo felt his eye ridge draw tight in the center and he looked over to Chi Chi's distraught face and back at Gohan. The next words he whispered. "He already went after Bulma…" Piccolo found that he didn't have to say the word 'sexually'. Gohan's face revealed that he understood clearly. A tear trickled down the boy's cheek, and he bit his lip… Hard.

"Piccolo?" Chi Chi inquired in a quiet tone.

"Be strong, Gohan," Piccolo growled. "Kill him if you have to. Protect your lives, and your mother's virtue at all costs."

Gohan solemnly nodded, and Piccolo squeezed his shoulder in brief affection, grateful that he'd continued to train Gohan until he reached a third level.

"What the hell is going on here?" Chi Chi asked, her fear now masquerading as belligerence. In answer, Piccolo walked over to her, combed his fingers around the back of her head and passionately kissed her. The wooden spoon in her hand fell to the floor. Several seconds passed, and she slowly lifted her hands to hang off his forearms. When he pulled back she was winded and flushed, but no less confused. He locked her in his gaze.

"I love you," he whispered intensely, realizing how much he meant the words now that they finally made it past his tongue. Her eyes widened at the unanticipated declaration, but before her reaction could materialize into a voiced question, he released her and with a nod to Gohan exited out the front door…

…only to be stopped by a mud-coated four-year old boy. In one swift move, Piccolo scooped him up, and hugged the dirty little squirt to him. Goten giggled and returned the embrace, wrapping his tiny arms around Piccolo's thick neck. "Aaah, papa," he sighed in his little helium-pitched voice. It was a title he'd given Piccolo gladly after the wedding.

Piccolo's vision blurred by the water now standing in his eyes, and without further ado, he set the grinning boy down and shot up into the air towards an uninhabited valley several miles away. If the only thing his death accomplished was purchased time for Bulma to summon the eternal dragon, then it wouldn't be in vain.

As long as the crazed Saiyan stayed the hell away from Chi Chi…


	6. Chapter 6

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Violence alert! Let the beatings begin...**

**_Chapter 6_ **

Vegeta hung in the air, his breaths coming and going in great heaving rasps. His left arm was tweaked, and his right leg battered, but the wounds only added to his desire to continue. He looked over at his opponent bobbing up and down in the air like a buoy, who to his satisfaction was showing an almost equal amount of wear and tear.

Kakkarot had ascended twice, just as he had. So far it had been the most satisfying battle of his life, and up to this point he had no regrets.

"I see you've maintained your skill in the afterlife, Kakkarot," Vegeta conceded in between breaths. "But it still won't save you."

Kakkarot's green eyes flared, and he smiled with acid cheer. "No. I'd say 'maintaining' certainly wouldn't have been sufficient to beat you, Vegeta," he said in a mocking, confident tone that sent subliminal red flags waving in Vegeta's head. The prince angrily pushed aside his sudden reservations, but held his tongue as Kakkarot started to centralize his power.

_But he's already ascended twice_, he thought wildly. _He can't go any higher…_

"That's why I took my training a step further," he grated in an evil tone that seemed to come more naturally to him than to Vegeta himself. A surge of energy concentrated around Kakkarot suddenly, and Vegeta had to pull back to keep from being sucked into the whirling vortex.

His stomach dropped out as Kakkarot began to spasm and twitch, the crackling electricity dancing about his rigid form. _He's ascending again? Impossible! _Vegeta's survival instinct told him to run, but a voice much louder made him stay.

His pride…

Taking advantage of Kakkarot's distraction, Vegeta summoned his ki in a white-hot concentration that bubbled the skin on his palms. It only took seconds, but each second longer would make it that much more difficult. Finally satisfied with its destructive force, he ejected it at Kakkarot's transforming frame…

…only to watch it be lapped up like water by the radiating energy.

_Shit!_

An explosion sent him hurling back, and when he righted his tumbling body, Kakkarot hovered before him - completely transformed. Fear took a back step to amazement as he beheld his opponent's awesome state.

Kakkarot was a monstrous size, his vibrant, golden hair having lengthened to his ankles as it trailed behind him like the tail of a comet. His brow was protruded and menacing, while his malicious expression stole the breath from Vegeta's lungs.

The Saiyan started to laugh, a malignant, piercing cackle that chipped away at Vegeta's courage, and for the first time ever, the prince saw his own death in Kakkarot's eyes.

"Why Vegeta!" Kakkarot jeered, his once-kind face twisted with evil. "You look absolutely terrified!" The delight in his opponent's mocking tone sparked defiance in the prince. It might be the end, but there was no way in hell he was going down without a fight.

A cry gurgled in his gut and worked its way up and out his throat in a soul-quaking roar. Vegeta cocked the fist back on his good arm, and hurled himself at the third-level Saiyan, only to be caught by his neck from behind and dangled forcefully until his ears were filled with the sound of his own snapping neck.

_No! _

He lost all feeling in his body, and Kakkarot's laughter followed him as he was flung to the earth, no less limp than a marionette with the strings cut. He landed on his face and couldn't even flip over to keep himself from inhaling sand. He could barely make out Kakkarot's feet as he landed in the sand before him.

"You know, Vegeta," he grated. "I was going to kill you outright, but seeing you so helpless like this _moves me."_

Suddenly Vegeta found himself lifted by his damaged neck so that Kakkarot's vicious grin was directly in his line of vision.

"I think death is too easy an ending-"

Vegeta spat at him, the only offense he had left. "FINISH. IT. KAKKAROT!" he pushed through his teeth. "Don't…leave me…like _this!" _

"A life of paralysis. To live the rest of your days unable to wipe your own ass, because you were, as always, too weak to beat me."

"No!"

Kakkarot carried his limp form over to a palm tree, which he promptly snapped in half with his free hand. He then none-too-gently hung Vegeta by his ruined shirt on the splintered stump, leaving him to dangle, undignified and helpless.

"Ah. There we go. Just like a Christmas tree decoration. I can't wait to see their faces when they find you like this."

Vegeta felt the water sting his eyes. "KAKKAROT!"

"Now if you'll excuse me," the mighty Saiyan bantered in a dark wickedness that seemed to suit his voice so much better than his prior kind-heartedness. "I've got some unfinished business to attend to with an old _friend._"

And with that, he disappeared, discarding the despairing prince with all the respect and disregard of a smashed cockroach.

* * *

. 

Piccolo felt him before he saw him; a horrible, soul-sucking presence that slammed into his back like a ki blast. He couldn't stop the tension from stiffening his shoulders as he turned slowly to face the man who had come to kill him.

What the namek saw snapped him out of his practiced reticence, and he gaped with all the indignity of stupefaction. "_Goku…"_

The third-level transformation that had made Gohan look like a God, fitted the boy's biological father as a menacing, unnatural, acolyte of death.

"It's Kakkarot now, Piccolo," he said in a tone that Piccolo didn't recognize. The Saiyan's smirk seemed forced, as though in an effort to draw out the sweetest revenge of his life before his rage took over and ended the moment. "In a way I should thank you," he continued, his grin twitching. "If you hadn't stolen my family from me, then I would have never pulled out of that annoying good cheer that plagued my life."

"Did you actually think they'd wait around for you to come back?" Piccolo asked, hoping against all the precedents of an angry Saiyan that he could delay his imminent death by conversation.

Goku's attempt at banter suddenly lost to the humiliation he'd suffered at Piccolo's hands. His face contorted in fury, and as the fight commenced, Piccolo could only be grateful that he'd sought him out first instead of Chi Chi.

* * *

. 

Gohan spun around when he felt it, and ran to the front of the cave to look at the sky. His fists clenched at his sides and he began to tremble.

Chi Chi gasped, and collapsed to the floor with Goten's frightened form in her arms. "Is that him? Oh, Gohan! Is that HIM!" He was unsurprised that even his mother could sense his father's horrible power. Gohan nodded wordlessly, concern for Piccolo skyrocketing past all his promises to stay grounded.

He felt Piccolo's power surge. They weren't that far away…

"Gohan. He's going to kill him!" Chi Chi cried in near hysterics. "Forget about me. Go save Piccolo! If you beat him now he'll never make it to us!"

Gohan gritted his teeth and looked down. In her panic, his mother sounded unexpectedly rational. As a matter of fact, he couldn't agree with her more… He turned to her, and grimly nodded.

"Hurry!" she barked.

Needing no more encouragement to break his word to Piccolo, he shot into the air, shifting quickly through all three levels of transformation until he felt his hair stretch out behind him like radiating backdrop. _Wish me luck_, he thought in a moment of crazed morbidity. _I'm off to kill my father…_

* * *

. 

When Gohan arrived, what he saw almost shocked him into paralysis. The triple-ascended Saiyan that had been Goku was hovering over Piccolo's dismembered body, slapping the namek's battered, blood-soaked face with his own arms. Gohan gave way to an unconquerable rage and before his father could even turn around he slammed into him with a globe-shattering force, sending the powerful man crackling through several layers of the planet's crust.

Gohan didn't even bother to wipe the moisture from his eyes as he looked down at his mentor and best friend. "Piccolo!"

The namek's eyes kept rolling back in his head, having lost all four limbs to Goku's beating. Gohan knew that to regenerate it all would be near impossible, depending on energy that Piccolo no longer had. The teenage boy grabbed his shoulders and shook him, the emotion cracking his voice.

"Regenerate yourself, Piccolo!" He slapped the namek's face in an effort to stun him out of his incoherence. "Try! You must try!"

Piccolo sputtered, and then cried out as the pain hindered his awareness anew.

"Come on, buddy," he whispered as he cradled Piccolo's gimped form in his arms. "_Don't die on me…!" _

Suddenly, Goku appeared before him, his body as bloodied and ripped as his clothes. He was panting heavily and Gohan found that it was easier to see his father as a monster in his ascended state. The man, quite simply, looked nothing like the father Gohan had loved.

Goku wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and a teeth-baring smile split his face. "You don't need him anymore, son. Your real father is here."

Gohan glared up at him, "Goku was my father," he hissed. "Not the maddened devil who possessed his body!"

Goku quirked an eyebrow. "Oh no? My blood runs through your veins, boy. What you see before you now is an intrinsic part of your genetic make up," he grinned.

"I'm not evil!" Gohan cried.

"You can argue with me all day long, but wouldn't you rather fight it out? After all, it's in our nature-"

"Shut up!"

"Now move aside already. Let me finish with the namek before we settle our differences-"

The Saiyan nearly bit his own tongue off as a powerful blow knocked his jaw up into his skull and sent him flying backwards. Gohan followed suit, and blasted him with a handful of well-aimed and immensely potent ki blasts. _You're not my dad,_ he kept telling himself over and over, to keep from losing momentum. _You're not!_

Goku flipped back and grunted in pain at the onslaught. He caught Gohan's hand and spun him around only to find the boy's heel imbedded in his kidney on the rebound. He yelped and fell to his knees, nearly losing consciousness as another well-placed kick cracked the back of his head.

Gohan pummeled him, and blocked the retaliations. But his element of surprise had passed, and soon Goku had him in a throat-crushing headlock. The teenager's fingers dug at the man's bulging forearms as he tried to break free.

Suddenly, the sky went black… _Completely_ black. Goku gasped and immediately loosened his hold. Gohan took advantage of the moment and elbowed the man's gut, flinging him backwards. As he turned, he saw Goku doubled over slightly with a hand up to cease the battle. He was breathing heavily when he spoke.

"If you'll…excuse me, son," he managed in between breaths. "I've got a feeling that…this is about…me. I'll be right…back."

With that, the Saiyan pointed two of his fingers in between his eyes, and stared at them. In an instant, he was gone. Realizing that it was now out of his hands, Gohan eagerly descended to the nearly-dead namek on the ground below. He gently lifted what was left of Piccolo's body out of the blood puddle, and shot off in the direction of the lookout, hoping against all hope that he'd make it there in time for Dende to heal him.

* * *

. 

"Shenlong!" Krillin cried at the great, serpentine dragon that snaked up off the lookout, high into the midnight sky. "We wish for you to remove Goku's evil nature-"

"No!" Bulma barked at him. "You worded it wrong-"

Her words were abruptly ended as Krillin went sailing across the tiles. Bulma fell back and tried unsuccessfully to stifle her scream. Standing in his place was a monster of a man; radiating hair cascading down his massive back like lava. He was battered, but no less furious, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw his face.

_DAMN that instant transmission!_

He looked up at the dragon, malicious intent tweaking his broadened features.

"I cannot grant that wish," Shenlong bellowed out.

Goku turned on them all, fixing on Krillin. "Any wish here that concerns me is going to be MADE by me," he grated, still panting from whatever battle he'd come from.

Eighteen ran over to Krillin and helped him to his feet, while Master Roshi backed slowly away from the whole scene.

Bulma was closest to Goku, and she knew that to open her mouth for a wish was to get the same treatment as Krillin, but in her case, his blow would probably kill her. Terror paralyzed her. _What now!_

Goku stared up at the dragon, and Bulma could almost see the wheels turning in his head. "It was very generous of you to summon the dragon for me," he said as he turned to her. "The question is, what do I wish for?"

_If I could only distract him long enough to let Krillin get a wish in,_ she thought madly. _But what could I…use…_ Her gaze fell on her own bared legs in front of her - a feature Vegeta had always appreciated immensely. She gulped. No sooner had the ridiculous thought entered her head than she was up on her feet and placing herself between Goku and the dragon.

He glanced at her and gave her all the attention of a hovering mosquito, but he didn't bat her away. _I'm not a threat, huh? _She thought snidely. Praying that Krillin would see his opportunity, Bulma quickly slid her hands up Goku's chest. His malicious smirk was replaced by blatant confusion as he frowned down at her. Then, before she had time to talk herself out of it, she clamped her hands behind his head, stood on her toes. Ignoring Goku's wide-eyed stare, she aggressively locked her lips onto his.

She felt his quick intake of breath, and slight flinch at the unexpected move. She heard Krillin's voice in the background but it was only static noise to the blood roaring in her ears. She felt him resist when Krillin started speaking, and quickly deepened the kiss, feeling the smooth texture of his teeth against the tip of her tongue. The taste of blood only added to the frenzied moment, and she thought she'd never felt such an adrenaline rush in all her life.

_I can't believe I'm doing this_, she thought crazily. _I can't believe I'm kissing Goku! _And then more significantly. _It's working! I can't believe it's working!_

Somewhere in the middle of it all Goku seemed to release the evil tension that was bunching up his muscles, and then Shenlong spoke.

"YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED."

Still caught up in the chaos of the moment, Bulma was unsure whether or not it was safe to pull away. It wasn't until Goku hesitantly touched her sides, and began to gently kiss her back, that she knew Krillin's wish had worked. Kakkarot would not have been so subtle…

She finally fell back on the balls of her feet, and looked up at the angular face of a stupefied Goku, who was looking at her for all the world as if he'd never seen her before.

She blinked, then remembered to unclasp her death grip on his head. She took a reluctant step back, not taking her eyes off his face.

"Goku…?"

He brought a hand to his lips and looked at her with a dumbed down expression that was typical of the little boy she'd met all those years ago. "You kissed me…"

Bulma felt the blood rush to her face as the awkward embarrassment she felt gave way to something much more familiar.

Rage.

Clenching her fist, she hauled off and hit him in the face. It didn't phase him much, but he did take a step back.

"Of COURSE I kissed you, you weak-willed lummox!" She went up and jabbed a finger in his chest, unable to stop the flow of invective that streamed forth from her frothing mouth. "Do you realize what you almost did to me on the beach down there? HUH? Just because you gave into the depression?

"Well, I'll tell you WHAT mister! I'm OUT of psychological Band Aids, you hear me? So you'd better knock off this misery bullshit," she fumed. "Chi Chi was a WIDOW, you egotistical butthead! What makes you think she'd still be around just in case you decided to come back, eh?

"You still have us, and you still have Gohan - who loves you more than anyone in the world. So stop wallowing in your sorrows, and make amends where you still can!" she barked and then stood on her toes again and got in his face. "If I see another frown on your retarded face, I WILL send you back to the afterlife! Got it?"

He just gaped at her as if her verbal daggers hadn't penetrated one iota; the words _'You kissed me…'_ still written all over his face.

"GOT IT?"

He nodded mutely.

"Good. Now considering you didn't kill Piccolo or Vegeta, I strongly suggest you transmit yourself and bring them back here to be healed."

At those words, his face DID transform. And it shifted into anguished panic. Two seconds later he had disappeared.

Having lost all momentum, Bulma sat down, burying her face in her hands. All the belligerence in the world wasn't going to erase the fact that it made her knees weak to kiss him like that. And it wasn't going to erase the fact that the LAST thing she wanted to do was to pull away from him. But what truly threatened her grip on reality wasn't the passion he stirred in her, or the immense relief at his well-being…

It was that _kissing _Goku, quite simply, felt right.


	7. Epilogue

**_Chapter 7_ **

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

"Well, now. Will you look at that," Bulma mused as she and Gohan peered through the bubble glass of the training room. Goku was inside wrestling with both Goten and Trunks, letting them tackle him, then throwing them off. The little boys were so beside themselves with giggles that they were literally tripping over their own feet. And of course Goku's laughing face was no less fun to watch.

"_That_ right there is the dad I knew growing up," Gohan said wistfully. "More fun to play with than any child my age."

"Yeah. He never did grow out of that 'kid' stage," Bulma agreed. "Just be grateful that the dragon didn't have a sense of humor with that wish."

Gohan snorted. "No kidding. 'Please give Goku back his brain damage' wasn't the safest way to put it," he said as he shook his head at Krillin's phrasing. "But at least it worked out okay."

Bulma smiled agreement, and took special note of the happiness in Gohan's eyes. "He's pulled out of it," she said, and then her voice grew quiet. "Except for an occasional 'down' moment over guilt that Vegeta left, he's pretty much like this all the time," she conceded. "He has spent almost every day with Trunks; training, goofing around, eating… At first I thought he was doing it out of obligation, but Goku can't fake happiness. And he's happy around my son…" she chuckled as little Goten accidentally landed a knee in Goku's crotch, leaving the grown man clutching at his stomach, curled up on the floor.

Gohan blew his breath out in a long whistle. "I bet THAT hurt," he said, and then laughed outright as Trunks took advantage of Goku's fallen status and barreled into him, throwing the Saiyan several feet back. "I think that Trunks has given dad purpose again, which is what he was missing when he came back to find that Piccolo had taken his place."

"Well, at least he can bond with Goten this way," she said.

"Yeah. And I think it means a lot to him even though Goten will never call him 'father'."

"Piccolo has earned that title with the boy."

"Yes, he has."

Bulma was amazed at how open-minded Gohan was about it all. No bitterness, no reservations. He loved everyone equally, each taking a special place in his heart. "Your 'life-experience' has matured you beyond your age, Gohan," she said.

He smiled and looked at his feet. "Yeah. I imagine so."

_And yet it hasn't eroded away your innocence,_she thought. _Just like your father. _Her mind took an unexpected turn towards Goku, complete with the weird longings and urges she'd been battling since that day they'd kissed. She'd mulled it over and over in her mind, and her conclusion was that the only difference between 'loving' and being 'in love' was a physical chemistry.

She loved Goku fiercely. Always had. And now that the element of intimacy was introduced, every part of her seemed to ache for him. She hid it well, she thought, considering how strong it was. After all, she was logical, and love was not. Acting on impulses hadn't always been such a good idea in the past. This time around she was going to think it through carefully, especially since it involved the dearest friend she'd ever made - and especially since he hadn't shown any signs really of feeling the same way.

She shook herself. _Time to change subjects… _"So Piccolo really doesn't mind letting Goku have Goten once a week?"

Gohan snorted. "Are you kidding? I think it makes him feel less remorse over everything that happened. And besides, it gives me a chance to dodge my homework and come spend time with dad, myself."

"Hmm. I can see that," she said. "Well, who knows? Perhaps it won't be much longer before Goku is comfortable enough to come visit you guys at your home, with Piccolo and Chi Chi."

Gohan frowned speculation at her. "Maybe eventually, but I think it depends on if he ever lets himself fall in love again; someone who'll fill the void in his heart that mom left. Until then, I don't know that it'll stop hurting him to see them together, ya know?"

Without warning, Bulma felt blood rush to her face. And it didn't help any when she turned her face to hide it from Gohan, only to see Goku throwing her one of his knee-buckling smiles through the circular window.

"Well, I, uh…" she took a deep breath, and turned around. "I've got to go finish something."

"Ok. See ya later, Bulma," Gohan waved. She threw her hand over her shoulder as she walked away, wondering how much longer she was going to be able to keep her feelings for Goku a secret.

* * *

. 

That night, Bulma found herself on her balcony, staring up at the stars. Vegeta had left almost immediately after he was healed, something that hadn't surprised Bulma at all after seeing what Kakkarot had done to him. Memories of that sleepless night replayed themselves in her mind with generous detail.

Goku had brought Piccolo back first, and the sight of his gimped body nearly made her throw up. Fortunately, Dende was right there to heal the namek enough so he could regenerate the four limbs that had been severed off. Even after the healing, Gohan still had to carry Piccolo back, as he was in no shape to do anything, himself.

Then Goku materialized with Vegeta's limp body in his arms. Initially, Bulma thought the prince was unconscious by the way he dangled lifelessly across Goku's massive forearms. But then she saw his face. His eyes were clenched tightly, and wet lines trailed through the sand on his cheeks - a sign that he'd been crying. His mouth was pulled down by a teeth-gritting frown, and for the first time since she met him, Vegeta had no biting remark, or angry retort for anyone there. He was, quite simply, defeated. And it was the most horrible thing in the world to see.

She'd realized then that Kakkarot had paralyzed him - a fate worse than death for her proud man, and whatever things the evil Saiyan had said to the prince at the moment of victory did more damage to Vegeta's spirit than any wound could have done to his body.

Even when he was healed, he wouldn't look at her, and it didn't help any that Goku was apologizing profusely, further rubbing it in. Vegeta took off immediately with the same closed, pained expression that he'd arrived with and that's when Bulma comprehended that the injury to his soul might never be repaired.

She arrived home to find that her father had been bullied into making last-minute preparations on a spaceship for Vegeta, and she arrived to the site just in time to see him walking up its plank.

Bulma winced as their last conversation replayed in her mind.

_"Vegeta!" _

He paused mid-step, but didn't turn around.

"Where are you going?"

A brief silence followed until he broke it, his voice little more than a whisper. "I don't know."

"When will you be back?" she asked frantically, as if her questions could delay the inevitable.

He turned his head over his shoulder, but still couldn't make eye contact. "Maybe never."

"You can't!" she cried. "You can't just abandon us like that. What about me? And Trunks?"

"I don't expect you to understand."

Tears sprang to her eyes, of anger, hurt, exhaustion. "Don't let this beat you, Vegeta-"

"It already has!" he turned and faced her then, his face desperate and strained. "You can't change my nature, Bulma. I've been defeated… Mocked. I have no place on this planet."

"You're delusional!"

"I'm Saiyan," he replied solemnly. "I'm…I'm sorry." With that he turned and went up into the ship. She ran to catch him only to have the door close in her face. With tears streaming down her cheeks she shook her fist at the igniting ship.

"Don't expect me to wait around for you to come back, you hear!" She sobbed, trying to mask her sadness with anger. "Because I won't, Vegeta!" She cupped her hands to her mouth. "I WON'T!"

In answer, the space capsule threw her back as it blasted off, and Bulma lay there for a long time afterwards, with her face in her hands, crying…

Sure their relationship had been dysfunctional and tumultuous, but it didn't make his departure any less painful. And now, three months later, she felt oddly detached. Distant. As if Vegeta were nothing more than a chapter in her life. Bulma sighed heavily.

"Thinking about Vegeta again?"

Bulma gasped and turned to see Goku standing behind her. He had on a snug white T-shirt and worn jeans, and looking down at his feet she saw that they were bare. _Well, no wonder I didn't hear him approach…_

She smiled sadly and nodded. He walked up beside her, put his hands on the railing and joined her in looking at the sky. His face was somber, and it again amazed her how easily he could switch gears when the occasion called for it.

"Do you think he'll ever come back, Goku?"

The moonlight fell on his face, silvering his profile as he gazed pensively up towards the heavens. Several seconds passed, and his visage shifted through a handful of emotions, as though reliving Vegeta's defeat at his hands. He finally shook his head. "No. I don't."

Bulma pursed her lips, and looked down at her feet. She could feel him looking at her then, his heavy gaze weighing down her shoulders. She knew what was coming before he said it.

"I'm so sorry, Bulma," he said, his sincerity almost palpable.

She turned to face him, and pegged him with a glare. "I don't want you getting all evil on me again, Goku, so enough with the sorrows." At his continued pained expression, she sighed and placed her hands on her hips. "I know you're sorry, but this happened for a reason. Vegeta had a lot of baggage, and he was unstable. Anything could have triggered his leaving." The last bit wasn't wholly true, and she knew that he knew it. But Goku had done so well at pulling out the depression that she wasn't about to let him relapse. Especially over something she had mixed feelings on.

"Besides," she continued, her gaze softening, "Your being here has made his leaving not so painful." She smiled. "Especially with Trunks. I've seen more smiles on that boy in the last two months than the whole five years when Vegeta was around."

Her words eased the remorse in his face. "He's a great kid, Bulma."

"Yes he is," she confirmed as she stared back up at the sky.

"And he has a great mom."

The intensity of his last words made her look at him again. Goku's coal-black hair was casting shadows over his face, but it didn't hide the glistening sincerity in his penetrating eyes. She suddenly got butterflies, but she couldn't pull away from his gaze.

Goku stepped towards her and rested his hands lightly on her arms. The gesture was uncharacteristically intimate, and it sent her heart fluttering.

"Bulma, thank you. For everything," his hand raised and he traced her jaw line with his fingers. "You've healed me in so many ways…"

"Goku, I…" Bulma found that she had a really difficult time catching her breath, as it was coming and going so quickly. And then suddenly she recognized what was undermining her ability to stay emotionally aloof. It was the expression on his face. It wasn't 'THE' look that Piccolo gave Chi Chi on their wedding day, but it was damn close. Suddenly, her next conclusion trickled off her tongue before she could stop it.

"You love me…"

Goku's eyes widened immediately, and his visage opened in honest surprise. Several awkward seconds passed as Bulma mentally thwacked herself for the ludicrous assumption. She was about to go crawl in a hole somewhere, but then a hesitant smile lifted the corners of Goku's mouth. He bit his lower lip, and even through the shadows she could see the heat in his face. Without taking his eyes off her, he nodded mutely.

"Oh…" Bulma imagined she would have said something witty right then, had her heart not been slamming the breath from her lungs. So, instead, she placed her shaky hands on his chest. His body was incredibly warm, and he only encouraged her audacity by tickling his fingers down her waist. She looked up to his face, and he tilted his head, locking her in his stare. She saw that his lids were heavy, but his eyes were sparkling with the all excitement of anticipation.

Accepting the fact that this would change_ everything,_ Bulma curled her hand up around his neck, and slid the other one under his arm, pulling him down until their lips touched. The sensation was overwhelming. They kissed once, and pulled back. They kissed twice, and pulled back. Then he leaned down a third time, and this time the kiss bypassed all the subtleties as he crushed her to him.

Amidst the passion and intimacy of the arduous embrace, she felt her soul-hunger align with physical desire in an unprecedented manner. It eliminated any remaining doubt that the 'Mr. Right' Bulma had dreamed about her entire life, had been right there with her, all along.

**

* * *

**

**Continued in Goten and Marron...**


End file.
